#and she has work and rehearsal on the 7th……you guys. you guys | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thecoolerlucky · 4 months

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Chapter 1: The Happy Pizzeria

Contents (Warnings/Mild spoilers): Lynette meets an average employee from the Happy Pizzeria!

Wordcount: 4,200+

Side note: This will contain experimental writing, first person (Lynette's view) will be implemented alongside third person for the two other essential characters, (mostly) Alexander and (occasionally) Drake. For those third person moments all their text will be italicized and their thoughts in Bold. There will be other characters I write in third person for in the future using this method too. Thank you and enjoy!

'Do giants work here?'

__________________________________________

Day 0 - (Sept. 7th, Wednesday)

Lynette

"Shoot, I used the wrong spell!"

I scrolled through the list desperately. I needed to find the right one to kill the Banshee.

I ran in circles frantically to avoid its wails. "Wait, please," I whispered.

My phone’s ring startled me. I swiftly paused my game and fumbled to stop “livin’ la vida loca” from blowing up in the break room.

I answered, "Hey, what's up, Charletta?"

Her cheer echoed through the receiver. "Lyn, are you off today?"

I pinched my phone between my ear and neck to resume my game.

"Nope, Tuesday and Thursday are my days off, so I can think about starting school.” My enthusiasm dropped. Can I handle going back to school again?

"Oh! I should have called yesterday. Sorry, Lyn!"

"You're fine!" I said. "I'm on break for at least another five minutes. We can chat."

"Chatting with you? That's a rarity.” She joked sarcastically. I sank into the plastic seat, weighed down by guilt. I really should have called more.

"I’m sorry, I had tons of homework over the summer for my GED and I've been working double shifts at this job.”

"It wasn’t a knock at you," she replied. "Wicks has kept me up to date with your diligent work." She sympathetically sighed. “I’m glad I can hear your voice, at least.” It was evident from her tone that she frowned. “I worry for you guys. You and Wicks have a knack for finding trouble.”

"Don't I know it." I said chuckling, partly because of what I said and partly because I beat the Banshee.

"I called for another reason to…” Her voice erupted in excitement, "My wedding is two months away!"

I jumped in my seat, "right." I paused my game again and put the console into sleep mode. "I gotta request that day off."

"DAY!" She exclaimed. "You're the maid of honor. You need to be here for at least 4 days. If not the whole week!"

I felt a lecture coming on.

"You know work won't let me do that." I looked around at the few people in the small breakroom. Everyone was either on their phone or eating lunch, filling the few tables we had. "I was already out for a week with food poisoning." I glanced over at the T.V. playing a food-related jingle to mock me. I smirked, "I mean, how was I supposed to know eating out of a dumpster would be a bad idea?"

"Are you crazy?" She said followed by a fast fluster of incomprehensible Spanish. Although I learned a lot from Madre and them, I was unable to utilize it as quickly as they did.

"I'm kidding, Charletta. It was that small restaurant called "Ducky's Dining". I’m sure Wicks told you." I grumbled under my breath, "Their food made me super sick."

She was quiet for quite a while.

"Charletta? Hello?"

"Still here!" Did I say something wrong? Then, she said, "You're going to have to convince your work. You have to be here for the rehearsal and the bachelorette party. You also have to meet my fiancé and his family. Plus, Mom and Dad really want to see you-" She cut herself off. "Basically, you'll have to be here, maid of honor rules."

I smiled, shrugged, and moved the phone to face me as if we were on a video call. "Wicks could pull off the maid of honor position."

She laughed, "Lyn, I can't have him looking better in that dress than I do in mine!"

I laughed too. "Okay, fine. I'll ask and see what they tell me, promise."

Her ecstatic chirps returned, "if you can only get the day…I guess I can go over rehearsal with you, but I expect you to materialize as soon as the clock strikes 12:00 a.m. that Friday!"

I talked with my sister a little longer before saying goodbye, and I hung up. I figured they’d make me jump through hoops to get there. I hadn't been here for more than two months.

After putting away my portable console, I made sure I looked presentable and smiled as best as I could. You got this, as long as I work hard, it'll be fine.

…

Alexander

He had no choice but to enter the populated place he dreaded, the store.

His recent birthday present chewed through most of his cables while he was in the shower, and to keep himself and the few guests entertained tonight he needed a new HDMI cable.

Upon entering, the influx of pleasant smells attempted to sway him to pursue them. I’m so glad I ate earlier, he thought. He considered himself lucky that he did, otherwise his instincts would be impossible to ignore.

Dismissing the few tempting people he passed, he made his way to the electronic section. "I have a party soon, can't you be quieter." He grumbled audibly at his body, he avoided this place unless he was full for this reason.

He held his breath, not that it mattered, because his stomach immediately tightened. It felt like something clutched his insides and twisted them. The hunger pains came back faster than ever before.

His gaze focused intensely on the red-headed worker assisting a customer. His slower stride moved toward her. Sneaking up, as he had to, until he heard the older man she was helping laugh aloud.

It took a tremendous amount of willpower to yank his body to the next aisle. He crouched down as much as he could. He wanted to stay below the short aisle separators.

He pressed his hand into his growling abdomen. What the hell is going on?!!

Through trembling breaths, he reluctantly inhaled her sweet scent. He closed his eyes to calm down—it only worsened his problem.

Alexander reopened his eyes and strove to focus on the headphones locked behind the glass panels. He even pushed up his black-rim glasses to read the labels better.

Though, his ears were keenly attuned to her friendly chatter with the older gentlemen in the next aisle over.

Ignoring his begging stomach didn't soothe it either. Thankfully, its persistent cries were quiet enough that only he could hear them.

Despite knowing better, he waited until the customer left. He stood up and walked to the aisle. Although he expected her to leave as well. Her rolling cart was stopped in the section he needed to go, and she was stocking at the HDMI cables.

He crouched down and maintained a small distance between him and her. He searched the cords she stocked, about to ask her for one, but his eyes slowly drifted to her body.

He didn't take in any of her delicate features, his mind fixated on her size. She’s so small.

He swallowed hard.

Her obnoxious and vexing aroma made him desperately want to know what she tasted like and gave him hope that she'd end his hunger.

"Do you need this?"

Her voice snapped him back to reality.

He flinched and sprang up.

She followed his rise and stood up too. She held up the cheapest HDMI cable to him. He briefly looked her up and down. Don't do it. His body trembled as he gulped back his temptation to grab and consume her.

He adjusted his glasses nervously, and spoke. “Yeah. I didn’t want to interrupt your flow.”

He reached out to get the cable and his fingers lightly touched hers.

"You're fine, sir. I'm stocking them anyway," she flashed him a cheery smile. He ignored it. “Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Uh..." The urge to satisfy his craving overran his thoughts, so he couldn't coherently answer her.

FUCK.

He fought to jerk his stare away. He refused to do it right now. He was busy—no matter how much his body told him to.

He struggled against himself and caught the logo on her uniform. It reminded him of the clause at his workplace. I don't need that.

His body thought otherwise.

In desperation, to assure itself that he'd see her again, he asked, "Do you like your job?"

Her eagerness for his response melted into confusion. It stunned her long enough for Alexander to regain his composure while towering over the girl that barely came up to his sternum.

“It's work," she said, gathering more thoughts. "Most of the employees are friendly, there are good and bad days like anywhere else, and though more pay would be nice, I can't complain." Her smile restored. "Were you asking because you wanted to work here too?"

Alexander dug into his front pants pocket and got his wallet. “No.” He picked through it to find the company card he received years ago. What should I say? He internally groaned. What does that flirty bastard tell them? “My work would benefit from having someone cheerful and friendly to help run the registers," he offered her the partially creased card. “It’s a pizzeria not that far from here.”

She smirked at the cartoon pizza slice that had a speech bubble with, “Happy Pizzeria” on it. He was glad the writing was still legible. If you're doing this, keep going.

He looked over her head to temporarily control his domineering thoughts. “It pays $100 an hour, offers medical the day you’re hired, plenty of va-”

"$100 AN HOUR!" Her voice squeaked. She tilted back to the card, embarrassingly, "S-Sorry. Continue."

The two of them fiddled with their respective objects, her with the card and him with the HDMI cable.

"Plenty of vacation time, dental, and vision." He finished.

She looked up. "They’d pay me that much to run a register, why?"

"The owner's a retired multi-millionaire, who one day decided his passion was making pizza." Alexander muttered, "He doesn't care much about money anymore."

"And there are spots open?"

"He only accepts interviews from employee recommendations."

In awe, she pointed to herself, “and you’re recommending me?”

I am, aren’t I? His eyes fell back on her and he lurched slightly. Stupidly, "yes."

"I’ll definitely look into it, thank you!”

Alexander ran his hand through his short, still relatively damp, blonde hair, to keep his hand from reaching out. "y-yeah. Call the number on the card later this afternoon. I'll put in a recommendation for, um......"

"Lynette," she responded.

He nodded. "Got it." His legs didn't want to move unless it was closer. He sheepishly chuckled, "I'm Alexander." He haplessly put out a hand to shake. Don't pull her in.

Her soft small one met his larger one. His nearly encompassed hers. I have the party in an hour, body please.

He quickly shook her hand, successfully pulled back, and made himself turn around. "Hope to see you hired soon, Lynette."

He clutched the HDMI cord to his chest and got as far as he could. His painfully aching body harshly reminded him of how unbearable it was to be so close to them.

It was the longest and most arduous conversation he had with a human by himself in years. He talked to customers at the pizzeria but that didn't require thinking.

And, for some reason, among all the humans he had ever met, she was by far the worst for him to be around.

...

Lynette

Once I got home, I studied the card. That was such a weird interaction. She threw herself back on her couch. What are the odds that some stranger invited me to join a job like that as soon as I'm struggling to start school ? I got out my laptop, and checked over the site. It looked legit with a 4.7 star rating from thousands of reviews. Those pizza’s look so good!

I looked over the number on the card again, then pulled my phone out. My finger hovered over the number pad. I'll get Wicks’s opinion first. I hoped he'd answer while away on his business trip.

He did with a few huffs. “What's up?”

"Is it a bad time?" I asked.

"NO, no—they had me getting everyone coffee, so I was running around doing that.”

I didn't let my mind wander and tried to disregard his exasperated breaths and harsh construction like noises in the background.

"Okay. Well, when I was at work today, I got offered a better job at a pizzeria. The pay the guy was telling me about seems outrageous! It's-"

There was another bang from his side of the phone.

"Wicks! Are you sure this isn't a bad time, where are you?"

"Don't worry, just-." His voice strained. "Trying to carry some boxes!"

I pursed my lips. I could hear the lie hidden behind his nervous chuckle.

I sucked it up and spoke back fast, "nevermind, tell you later. I LOVE YOU. PLEASE BE SAFE!"

"LENTILS!"

I hung up the phone to let him deal with his business.

I clutched it with one hand and looked at the card. This could be my perfect opportunity, don't squander it.

I called the number, feeling the vultures known as anxiety picking at my fears.

As it rang and rang, a female finally answered.

"Hello, this is Sandra with the Happy Pizzeria office line. How can I help you?"

"Hi, my name is Lynette Wayland. I'm calling because I talked to one of your employees earlier today, Alexander-" I don't know his last name, shoot.

She interjected, "Ah, yes. Alexander didn't have your last name when we spoke about your possible call." She cleared her throat. "We're currently hiring for a cashier position. Have you worked at a pizzeria or any fast food establishment before?"

"I'm currently working in the electronics area at a store, which requires me to occasionally work the register…." I corrected my fumble. "Food experience, no." I didn't think to mention my month working at Mickey D's in high school.

She was quiet for a moment, then continued, "any cashiering experience is better than none. Plus, you'll learn everything else you need on the job. And sorry if I go silent, I'm writing down your information for our owner."

I gave her my date of birth, spelled out my name, and a few other things, not my address or social security. It was quicker than expected.

"So, how soon can you be here?"

"Huh?"

"Apologies if you're not busy at the moment; Mr. Clemente is still in, and he can see you for a face-to-face interview."

I looked down at my dirty work clothes and patted my curly hair that needed a wash.

"Miss Wayland?"

"Yes, I can come in for an interview in the next hour!” I hope I don't sound too desperate.

"Great!" She said, "I hope to see you soon, have a pleasant drive here!" She hung up.

I hurried off the phone to the shower, brushed my teeth, and sent the address to Wicks in case. I was glad it was a twenty-minute drive from our apartment.

I soon recognized it, it was hard to miss the giant smiling pizza icon inviting people in.

I'm surprised Wicks has never recommended this place, he loves the weird ones. I thought.

When I parked, it was lively, and probably one of the biggest pizzerias or restaurants in general that I had ever seen. It was the size of a two story grocery store. I wonder if it has an arcade.

I got to the door, and the lovely cheesy and meaty smells blessed me. If I get this job, it's gonna suck, smelling like pizza all day. I got hungry the further inside I went. Whether I get this job or not I should get one of their pizzas.

The floor was a warm, inviting mix of wood and stone, with benches and tables offering cozy nooks and crannies to sit and chat. Somehow, it was cleaner than I expected, as each place to rest looked as inviting as the next. I held a giddy glee seeing them.

My vision drifted to the walls while I waited in line. They were adorned with vibrant paintings and photographs of ingredients, and pizza-themed landscapes. Their soft jazz playing overhead helped sell me even more. This is such a nice place. I swayed back and forth. I have to get this job. I ran hypothetical questions in my head, specifically what might be asked during the interview. Oh, interview! I’m so dumb I didn’t bring my resume!

"Ma'am?" The cashier's voice called.

I perked up, "oh gosh, sorry. I'm Lynette here for an interview?"

He raised a brow, then nodded, "Yes. Right back here." He gestured to the space to slide behind the counter. He pointed down the hall through the kitchen. "Down that way, it'll be the hallway past the kitchen on your left. There is an office at the end marked "Mr. Clemente.""

"Thank you," I said with a bow of my head.

"No problem, and good luck." He said to me as I passed. The kitchen looked as clean as the front and was HUGE. Do giants work here? I sighed. Then again, most people are giants to me.

I briefly saw another person who looked my age rushing back with an older woman in the kitchen.

I got to the hall he mentioned, then went down toward the office. I passed two other doors on the way across from each other. One said infirmary, and the other said record keeping.

It's good for them to have an infirmary.

I exhaled outside the door to the office and calmed my jittering nerves. I knocked and heard a male voice beckon me inside.

I expected a grand giant office to match the very expensive appearing Pizzeria interior. But, I was greeted with an average one. It had a bookshelf, a desk with a comfy-looking head chair, a computer, a framed picture that faced him, and two equally nice chairs across from him.

"Lynette Wayland?" He stood up and walked over to meet me. .

He looks wealthy. He had a very flawless complexion and his clothes were neatly tucked. He wore an all-black, freshly pressed business suit with a red cloth in his pocket and white gloves over his hands. I shook the hand he offered me. He’s about the same height as Wicks…and looks maybe around the same age as Charletta?

"My name is Edgar Clemente. You may call me Edgar. It's nice to make your acquaintance." A firm handshake followed. However, what caught my eye was his oddly colored ones. They looked a little redder than a normal brown hue. Almost with a tint of purple. "Is something the matter?"

I shook my head and moved to the seat he offered across his desk, "you have nice eyes." I made this weird!

"Thank you, they’re a gift from my parents." He chuckled as he sat back in his. "Before I start the classic interview questions, Lynette, I need to ask, how do you feel about pizza?"

"Pizza? I think it's good." Do some people here hate it?

He put a hand to his chest, "I started this place as a passion project. I don't know why, but the impulse to make pizza was too great to ignore. There's something I find so relaxing when I make them." His grin made it hard to tell whether or not he was joking, "and it's kind of become a ritual of passage for me to ask those interested in being hired what it means for them" He folded his hands one over the other, and leaned forward in his seat. His face dropped, holding a serious note, " how do you feel about pizza?"

Should I lie? I asked myself. I could say something like, “I’ve always had a passion for pizza too!” and yet my mouth wouldn’t let me.

"Honestly, sir, I don't have a passion for making pizza. I find it good, don't get me wrong, but not in the same way. I heard what you pay your employee’s and I’d love to save up as much money as possible to pursue another passion. That way, I won’t have to worry about not being successful…in it." I said and lowered my head after.. "It's probably not the answer you wanted."

Chin up. I nudged myself and adjusted my posture in my seat. No moping, you’re not out yet. "However, if I’m hired, I will work to the best of my ability to bring the cheer your customers need when they come inside this pizzeria."

I maintained eye contact, intimidated by his silence. He moved a gloved hand to his mouth and I saw a smile peak on his lips.

"Most people tell me what I want to hear. A time when pizza sparked their "hearts."" He placed air quotes over the word. "I’m glad you don’t look ashamed that you answered with sincerity. I would be after the money in your position too." He chuckled and sat back, "though, unlike you, I would have lied."

He opened his desk and placed down a packet of papers labeled "Happy Pizzeria Contract."

"As you are in it for the money, Lynette, how about I offer you a proposition." He flipped to the second page and wrote on the bottom of it. He turned it back to me. "The pay is $100 an hour, you are allowed up to a month of vacation paid after your first week, and as a bonus, if you stay here for six months, you'll receive $500,000."

My eyes widened, "wh-what-" I was too stunned to say anything else.

He raised a pointer finger, "and if you stay loyal to this pizzeria for a year, working hard, following our rules, I'll raise that bonus to four million dollars."

My heart felt like it skipped a beat. I leaned back in my chair and held it.

He bent over his desk and his lips parted with worry. "Are you alright, dear?"

“I-yeah, just…four million…” I uttered to myself. "A year? That's it."

"If you can last, yes. And I'm sure that'd help with your money problems? On top of your $100 an hour." He handed me a pen, "oh, and we offer some of the best medical coverage around, as well as dental and vision once you start."

I pulled myself up and looked at the contract, "am I selling my soul or something?"

He snickered and gave a shake of his head, "no, I simply have more than enough money for my family, not including how much my wife makes."

I took the pen he held out. "How many hours and days would I work a week?"

"Five days a week, two days off a week, given that your recommendation was Alexander, he'll be training you. And you'd have Tuesday and Wednesday off." He held a finger up, "If possible, you'll start tomorrow."

"That works great." I replied, "what about lunch break and-"

"You receive two fifteen-minute breaks and an hour lunch break. A break after two hours, a lunch break after two more hours, then another fifteen before your last two. Your work hours will also be the night shift. 2 p.m. to 11p.m. is that alright with you?"

"Yes," I said.

I couldn't find anything to disagree with. I skimmed the contract. I was in too much shock to analyze every word. After a few more small questions, I signed it, and Edgar took it back. He walked me into the hall and to the infirmary for the rest of the information. He left me inside while he got the nurse.

The infirmary itself had beds of various sizes. I didn't understand why they would have ones that looked to fit at least six people or more.

I sat at the seat in the far corner and waited. I glanced over the books lying around and then to the medical supplies. A woman walking in drew my attention.

She introduced herself as Sandra, the woman I spoke to earlier.

She had a pale yet beautiful complexion, and her ears were sharper than most people's. It actually reminded me of Wicks and our family. I think Alexander had them with a small point too?

She escorted me to a scale and height machine. Took that down, gave me a small physical, questioned how I had been feeling lately, asked about my medical history, and informed me that she would be contacting my doctor soon.

Her voice during all of it sounded very rehearsed as if she had done it at least a hundred times.

She gave me a uniform from a cabinet full of them. It came with a hat, name badge, red shirt with black trim, and black jean pants. Then stacked me up with a second pair of everything. The fabric felt stretchy and thin yet sturdy.

An image of the mascot pizza slice was on the hat, next to the words Happy Pizzeria. The mascot was also on the shirt's breast pocket.

Sandra warned me how dirty they would get throughout the day, precisely at Lunch. Probably because everyone eats the pizza here.

Later I returned to the apartment teetering on excitement and unease. This is way too good to be true! I sank back on the couch, looked at a video of kittens on my phone, and sipped some tea to relax.

I got five minutes into the video and jerked up with a gasp, “wait! Dang it,” I fumbled not to spill my drink. “I didn't even buy one of their pizzas!”

…

Thank you for reading! :D Have a Gouda Day!

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luckyshotwrites · 2 years

Text

Ch. 1 // Happy Pizzeria // Day 0

Contents (Warnings/Mild spoilers): Needed set up before the story kicks off next Chapter. Mentions of vore, size differences, and sprinkles of what is to come.

Wordcount: 4,100+

Side note: This will contain experimental writing, first person (Lynette's view) will be implemented alongside third person for the two other essential characters, (mostly) Alexander and (occasionally) Drake. For those third person moments all their text will be italicized and have the characters name in Bold at the start. There may be other characters I write for in the future using this method but we’ll see. Thank you and enjoy~.

_____________________________________________________

(Sept. 7th, Wednesday)